


Fare il Prezioso

by psalloacappella



Series: Equilibrium [10]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Bar Room Brawl, Drinking, Emotionally Stunted Sasuke, F/M, Humor, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Jealousy, Multi, Strong Haruno Sakura, Team Seven Can't Keep a Low Profile, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-01
Updated: 2019-09-01
Packaged: 2020-10-04 22:37:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20478617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/psalloacappella/pseuds/psalloacappella
Summary: When Sasuke, looking drunk, angry, sick, or some combination of them all, recoils from the anticipated touch, Naruto changes tack by pointing at him, then at the back of Sakura’s head, and claps his hands together messily, like he’s squeezing an orange.





	Fare il Prezioso

**Author's Note:**

> In which Team Seven is really bad at keeping a low profile. Everyone picking on Sasuke makes everything funny. Also, confession, I've always loved the idea of Kiba and Sakura being foul-mouthed bros who toe a weird physical friendship line and Sasuke/Kiba finding each other revolting AF because Kiba has no Sasuke-hangups therefore won't spare any feelings. KibaSaku and KakaSaku in passing mentions, if you squint.

“Naruto, you’re an idiot. Certifiably, clinically—”

“Hmm, now now,” Kakashi interrupts, trying to sound soothing, or something. Sakura’s voice is reaching the rafters already and they’re still in public. Frowning, he wonders why his kids can be so affable, awkward, and clueless, a batter mixture of poorly-managed emotions blended together into this messy dessert that he managed to inherit as a matter of course. 

In this moment, her hand raised and poised to slap the table so she can punctuate all of her reasons why he’s a _clinical idiot_, she looks younger. So much younger than her talented medical ninjutsu talent belies, and almost like a petulant teenager. Sasuke’s sitting slightly apart from the group, not betraying much in his expression except something that might be a grimace. They’re pathetic and poor in their valiant quest to ignore one another properly, be “mad.” Now, Kakashi remembers an unfortunate slip and the ideas of teenager and woman awkwardly exist in the same space in his mind. He feels like disappearing, something like – could it be shame? 

Eyes rolling back so far they could fall right out of the back of her skull, she’s at the height of dramatic. “He _proposed_ to my _best friend_ who has a _boyfriend_-”

Naruto’s neck nearly snaps as he whips it ‘round, and everyone’s eyebrows are raised, even Sasuke’s. His mouth twists a little, because he had no idea that his teammate truly was a colossal idiot and apparently, blind. Not that he knew, of course, that Ino was involved with anybody despite spending significantly more time around her, which was of course only a conduit to be able to keep an eye on Sakura, who didn’t seem to want him around.

Kakashi watched Sasuke perseverate quietly about something, watching thoughts twist behind his eyes. Uncomfortably relatable.

“Who’s she with?” Naruto asks seriously, or as seriously as he could discuss love and romance while inhaling ramen at a dizzying pace, speckling the table with shiny broth.

“Sai, duh.”

“Ugh, she would.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“So many girls like guys like that,” he counters, waving a hand in the direction of the waitress, signaling another empty bowl. “Broody and dark and too cool to be around the rest of us.”

Kakashi cheerfully grins at Sasuke; Sakura’s eyes cut to the Uchiha for a half-second. He tries to connect with hers, but she’s rudely swift. Avoidant.

Kakashi notices.

“What made you think this would be a good idea?” she groans. Despite her dramatics, she pinches some of his messy blonde hair between her fingers and tugs, something conveying annoyance and affection. “You’re hopeless.”

There. A flick of annoyance, a twitch of the lips, like a sneer. That’s what crosses Sasuke’s face, what Kakashi notices and files away for later. _Well well, it’s bothering him. He’s jealous._

“If I tried to test out a proposal on you or tell you about it, I’d lose my life,” Naruto pronounces seriously, eyes sparkling as the waitress removes his empty bowl and replaces it with another delicious sodium bomb. Their sensei chuckles, agreeing. There’s a quiet echo of a laugh, dissipating as quickly as it sounded, stifled and strangled out of existence like a choked cat.

“Fuck was _that_?” Then, a soft screech as Sakura slaps a hand over her own mouth, as if she could eat back the curse. _My mouth is getting worse!_

“Language,” Kakashi remarks cheerfully. “And I’m fairly sure that was a laugh from this one,” he says, angling to look at Sasuke underneath his long, dark locks. Still as a statue, but raises his head and folds an arm across himself tightly, continuously twisting his mouth like chewing on something rancid.

“Oh, and the fact that you’d kill me after she did,” Naruto adds, jerking his head at Sasuke. 

He can't stop himself; he takes the bait. “I would.”

“See!?” The blond sets his bowl with a _thunk_ on the wood, throwing his arm and stump open wide, bestowing the key to the universe upon them all. “So you do care about Sakura-chan and who she’s with and her fee-ee-lings.” He dragged the syllables across them, irritating like sandpaper. “You’re so dumb, Sasuke.”

Sakura’s mouth is open, but the words evaporate, like a swiftly departing flock of birds. She doesn’t know what to say or how to deny it, and a tiny part of her is tired of defending Sasuke’s complications. Just a little. Kakashi pretends not to watch in laser-focused interest. All the dark-haired man can manage is a weak “Shut up” in response.

“Nah,” Naruto responds. “I know what I saw. Probably the first time you’ve ever enjoyed yourself.”

“Oh, what now?” Kakashi interrupts. “I thought that was impossible.” In spite of himself, he’s taking the bait too.

Naruto brightens as he scoots his chair conspiratorially toward his sensei, grinning ear to ear. “You didn’t hear about this? Ino and I walked in on Sakura-chan and this idiot—”

“You let yourself into my house, you total pervert—”

Kakashi’s eyebrows nearly disappear into his hair.

Sasuke’s arm shoots across the table and his teammate’s wrist is a second away from being broken. “Quit it,” he growls, feeling an angry heat clawing its way up his neck, threatening to flood his blood vessels, poised to turn into a flush. God, that would be even worse because then it would just completely confirm that he’s human, and so much of his relationship with Naruto is predicated on him acting above that. Goddamn it. “I mean it.”

Sakura’s tiny fingers appear in the space between Naruto’s torso and arm, and she wraps them delicately around his upper arm, tapping each fingertip on the muscle. He winces but doesn’t break his gaze with Sasuke. Their sensei tries to hide his glee and appear aloof, but truthfully, this is hilarious to watch, and also wraps him into a nice cocoon of nostalgia, something he hadn’t realized he missed. Even underneath a mask, his teasing grin is radiating. “So . . . ?”

“I don’t know what we are,” she says easily, loftily. Something about her tone commands Sasuke’s attention, and he feels rooted to the spot, like she’s only speaking to him no matter how large the crowd or the chaos in the background. It’s something warm, tinged with discomfort at being the center of attention, like a gentle breeze, something deep in his past that he can only remember feeling from one other person. “At least I’ve confirmed,” her voice drops to just above a whisper, “that Uchiha _truly_ have a talent for everything.”

Three grown men choke on nothing but their own startled spit. Naruto’s face is screwed up in disgusted horror and Sasuke releases his grip on his wrist, face flushing and cycling through the colors of a sunset. Kakashi recovers easily and stares politely out the nearest window.

“You deserved it,” she huffs. Eyes bright like sanded sea glass. Swinging her bag onto her shoulder in a dangerous arc, narrowly missing the head of a shinobi at the table behind them, she points her finger at Naruto and her sensei in turn. “I’m mad at you, too.”

She pivots and comes face-to-face with her friends; Kiba, Shikamaru, and Temari are here, seemingly to join them. Shikamaru’s bored gaze slides over her, eyebrow raised, then he leans around her to look at the scene. “Oi, people already leaving? Geez.” 

“What’s with that face?” Kiba has a penchant for being fairly oblivious but also dangerously nosy. He mimics Sakura’s angry face and cracks up laughing at his own hilarity. Temari takes in the scene, watching a grown sensei try not to giggle, Naruto still looking mildly nauseated but also wiggling his elbow toward Sasuke to give him a conspiratorial ribbing. Sakura’s complicated expression of embarrassment and anger, but still with these glittering, sated eyes. When Sasuke, looking drunk, angry, sick, or some combination of them all, recoils from the anticipated touch, Naruto changes tack by pointing at him, then at the back of Sakura’s head, and claps his hands together messily, like he’s squeezing an orange.

“What subtlety,” Kakashi says. “I really should be leaving.”

“Move,” Sakura says. _I need to leave now!_ but Kiba’s expression is changing, something washing over him as it all clicks together. He inhales deeply and laughs harder.

Raises a hand to Sakura, doubled over with laughter. Temari’s mouth falls open. Through stitched, staggered laugher, barely able to breathe, Kiba wiggles his hand. “You fucking _got_ ‘im. You hit it. Take the win!”

For a moment, no one’s quite sure how she’ll react. Words silently form themselves with Temari’s lips, but they don’t materialize despite them clearly mouthing the rest of the room’s _What—the—fuck?_

Their high five rings in the restaurant space, and she has a small, devious smile playing on one side of her mouth as she brushes past Kiba, who’s still howling with mirth. “Make sure you come in for your physical,” she says, nearly all business as she takes her leave, waving a hand in the air.

Some strangled sound comes from the back table, and Sasuke’s so still he doesn’t look like he’s breathing. Naruto raises his arm, not sure if he needs to defend himself or hold him back from ending another human’s life. Kakashi heaves a sigh and stands up, stretching his arms above his head, so tall his fingertips nearly brush the ceiling. “Well, I have a bet to settle.” One hand ruffles Sasuke’s hair and the other raises toward the group in farewall. The former doesn’t move or react. “We didn’t get to our serious, proper team-talk, but this was nice. We’ll talk later.”

He disappears before Naruto can say goodbye, and Shikamaru drops into Sakura’s empty seat. Temari scoots in next to him, raising a hand immediately for a drink, and Kiba tempts fate by taking Kakashi’s place next to a Sasuke that hasn’t moved or breathed for the past several minutes. The waitress arrives, taking orders smoothly, and the talk starts up again.

“Hey, didn’t they say we were supposed to be careful about what we talk about in public?” Shikamaru grunts. “You all just attract attention wherever you go. It’s troublesome.”

“Hey,” Naruto responds, mocking him slightly, “It was too tense and I had to fix it.”

Temari sips her drink, trying not to roll her eyes.

“This,” Kiba jerks his head toward Sasuke, “Is way more interesting for the public at large. There was money on this and it’s like some bad soap opera where everyone has to know. Will they, won’t they?” His grin is so wide his curved canines are glinting prominently. 

“They’re not _together_ though,” Temari gurgles in her glass, and Shikamaru chokes. Without surfacing, she gives him a pat on the back.

“How do you know all this and I haven’t heard a thing?”

“You’re not a gossip,” she responds, pulling the glass slightly away from her mouth to speak freely. “Ino told me everything.”

“Wait, wait,” Kiba shouts, slamming his hands on the table; glasses and Naruto’s bowl jump. “You’re telling me that Uchiha Sasuke has been _smashed and trashed_?” 

No one’s quite sure what happens first – when people tell the story later, throwing back their own drinks, they’ll describe mostly what was left in its wake: Shikamaru choking for a second time, slopping liquor all over himself; Naruto’s food shoved aside and his foot on the table, ready to pounce, except he blinks, confused and wrong-footed because there’s no one sitting across the table anymore; Temari standing and stumbling backward, clawing for Shikamaru’s flak jacket and missing, trying to pull him back; a blonde flash as he launches himself on top of two men grappling in a mess of limbs and curses; angry barking laughs, almost like a fighting dog, mingling angrily in the din with another type of primal, strangled sound, something rusty and strained like it’s been wanting to escape for a while. 

Some details were errant, stray strands twisted into juicy details, like that Kiba was involved with her, or that they were both beyond plastered, that it was a fight over village pride, or that it was a card game or bet gone wrong. Men mostly laughed about the fight; some expressed concern at “the traitor” being involved. Crazy, emotional, possibly a liar. Bluffing, pretending if it had been their fight, their day, their glory, they would have come out on top. Women passed the information through their connections, working alongside one another, picking up groceries, floating hushed words across scalpels and charts in the hospital; still, though, it must be something to have someone fight over you like that. He’s still dangerous, they’d admonish darkly. 

And even though Uchihas have never been known to fight in that way, scrappy and emotionally unhinged, they’ve also never been known to fight in public over a woman.

Later, both would begrudgingly admit to the night nurse on duty it was worth it.


End file.
